


First Steps Into Sunken Glades

by OldeShoestrings



Category: Far Cry 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Protectiveness, protective!Pagan, toddler!Ajay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 07:46:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4255131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldeShoestrings/pseuds/OldeShoestrings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something has been altered on that day. Mohan is dead, that much is true but then, so is Ishwari.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <em>"Ajay," Pagan chuckled. "You are to call me papa, okay?"</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	First Steps Into Sunken Glades

**Author's Note:**

> _not beta. Sorry （ つ︣﹏╰）and I assume Pagan would be nearing his thirty in here_

Pagan Min had this kind of nightmare once; where a faceless child bled in his arms, breathing in and breathing out and just stopped. Dead and pale. The color red didn't suit the child's still pink lips. That's what it ever was back then. Just a nightmare he silently woke up to.

(with Ishwari by his side, her stomach round with life and little Ajay sleeping soundly between Pagan and his mother, wrapped protectively in Pagan's embrace and-)

So it was odd to the king when said nightmare crossed into reality, and the child was not faceless anymore. Her blood-smeared face was replaced by his Lakshmana's flushed lips, chubby cheeks, soft hands and and and-

Dead.

Dead.

Pagan tried to swallow but the air wheezed in his chest and stuck in his throat. His eyes dried but the need to scream was raw and bare. With trembling effort, he brought the small (-dead dead dead-) body to his chest and kissed her forehead. One hand went to the back of Lakshmana's neck while the other one held her waist.

"Papa's here. It'll be fine. It'll be okay." Because he was a king and kings didn't make mistakes and kings certainly wouldn't allow his only child to die. "Please." His voice small. Quivered. "You'll be fine."

"Pagan." Yuma called out. Her heels tapped against the wooden floors. "Pagan." she said again, her painted nails digging his shoulder. "Mohan's fled from the castle. The hunters spotted him making a run towards the Ghale's homestead."

The king's grip on his daughter tightened (dead? Dead? No no no. Not dead. But...dead? Dead) and he'd have lashed at Yuma, even broke her arms for being so serene and collected when his daughter was prone, lifeless- no wait. Fine. Not…dead. Right. Fine.

"Pagan. Your daughter's dead." Yuma hissed.

Pagan turned to her swiftly with a sharp glare. A snarl made its way up to his tongue. "How dare you-"

"-if you don't do something, Mohan will kill your lady-whore for her treason."

That was enough to snap the king.

"She'll die like your daughter, Pagan."

Dead then.

Not fine.

Dead.

(and for the very first time in his life, the king would bent on his knees, begging for his deceased child to forgive him because he'd lose her and he couldn't lose her mother too. And he certainly couldn't lose Ajay)

"I'm sorry." He kissed her cheek. One last time. 

Then he looked up at Yuma darkly. "I want that terrorist dead."

*

The homestead was too quite. And silence only meant two things in Kyrat; whether someone was dead or an ambush was being formulated. Pagan preferred the latter. "Pagan," Yuma gracefully slid by his side, cocking the smg in her hand with ease. "We'll send the army in first-"

"No." He cut in. "I'll go alone." He harshly snatched the gun from her. The woman was observing him with something akin to both worry and roguish and she might have seen something that she deemed satisfactory in his face when she shrugged, raising one arm to cease the Royal Army behind them from marching further on.

"Have fun." Yuma leered and headed back towards the soldiers.

"Oh, I intend to." Pagan trudged towards the homestead with a careful stance. Instincts in full alert as he crouched behind one of the tall oak trees, eyes scanning the whole perimeter. It was disconcerting how the area was heavily shrouded with calm that Pagan could hear even the leaves beckoning at him. With a heavy inhale, Pagan sprinted towards the back door and thought 'screw it' before he slammed the hinges open with his shoulder, scattering small timbers everywhere as he hastily stood his ground and raised the gun at-

"Uncle Pagan!" Little Ajay totted towards him with shaky feet. Face streamed with tears as the two-year old made a grab at Pagan's leg. The king quickly hid the gun behind him and picked the scared boy up with one arm, albeit with utmost gentleness. He scanned the boy's features, looking for signs of injuries. He sighed in a small relief when the only wound he could see on the boy's face was a red scratch on his cheek.

Though, even that was sufficient to anger the young king.

"Ajay," Pagan smiled softly at the boy, pecking at his forehead to soothe the boy down. "Tell me, do you hurt anywhere else?" Ajay lifted a pair of doey, wet eyes at the man. "My butt hu'tt. I p'ell on it but it okay now." Pagan chortled softly at the answer, shushing Ajay once the child looked like he was about to sob again. "Ajay, where's your mother?"

This time, the boy did cry. Petite arms went around Pagan's neck as the boy rubbed his face against the crevice of the king's neck. And at that very moment, Pagan would have burned the entire Kyrat as long as the pain would diminish from the boy he had come to love so very much.

"Daddy 'itt mommy," A hiccup. "I 'elp mommy but daddy 'itt me too." Pagan's eyes flashed in red at that.

Tenderly, he asked the boy. "Where are they now, Ajay?"

Ajay pointed his finger up, at the straight stairs that connected to the second floor. The king's chest hammered because if the child was right, then the absence of shouts and movements could only mean one thing.

"Ajay." He waited for the boy to look at him. "I need you to stay here, okay? Hide-"

"Nuu! I come!"

"You mustn't." He cradled Ajay closer to his chest (just like he did with Lakshmana before and how the hell was he going to tell Ajay why he couldn't play with his sister anymore-). "I need you to stay here. I need you to be safe. Can you do that? Can you be brave for me?" Pagan sniffled a pitiful laugh. No wonder Yuma kept accusing of him being weak; his children had him wrapped around their fingers. 

Ajay bit the inside of his cheeks, looking at the king with a hopeful and determined look. "Will you 'elp mommy, uncle Pagan?"

"I will." Please let her be safe too. "But you must stay here. I can't-" lose you. Not now, not ever. He brought their foreheads together, nostrils bumping against each other. Ajay giggled at the ticklish contact.

"Can you?"

"Okay. I p'omise."

With a chaste kiss on the back of Ajay's hand, Pagan set the boy down carefully.

The scent of blood was thicker in the air when he finally reached the steps and Pagan didn't have to reach the second floor to know what really occurred. He just stood there with a blank look in his eyes, watching at the two figures lying prone on the floor. Red stains mapped the quilt beneath them. The husband with a knife in his neck, and the wife with three gunshots in her chest.

He went slowly to the wife, arching one-knee on the bloody floor as he closed her empty eyes and kissed her lips. Another one final goodbye.

He hated this kind of ending.

*

"Uncle Pagan, why can't I go out?" Ajay craned his neck to look up the king and Pagan let out a small smile once Ajay clambered from the couch so he could climb on the king's laps, sitting there with stretched legs on Pagan's side. Ajay's brown eyes shone, blinking with an innocent curiosity. Always so easy to love others, even the hated usurper himself.

Pagan was a man of many skills. He knew how to manipulate, how to steal and how to kill using pens and chopsticks. Hell, he even knew how to choke someone with a baguette. He took pride in this. Yet none of those skills could be useful to him right now.

Not when he wanted to adopt and raise Ajay as his own son.

(it'd been four days and he hadn't tell Ajay what happened to his parents yet. He didn't want to)

"Can I go back to daddy and mommy now?"

Pagan's face darkened at the mention of that child-murderer. No, Ajay needed to forget that man ever existed in the first place. With Mohan's death, Pagan could easily wipe the Golden Path from his country. And Ishwari---

"Ajay." Pagan hoisted the boy up from his laps, sparing a kiss on the boy's temple before he put him on his hips, carrying the boy out of the king's chamber and onto the balcony.

(Yuma sat lazily in one of the cushioned chair, her gaze sharp as she observed the pair. Or especially, her king. Trust Pagan to ignore her whenever he was around his lady-whore's son)

"Do you want to be a prince?"

Ajay yawned, rubbing his eyes with a tiny palm. "What t'at?"

"It means that you are to be my son and I, your father. I will protect you, steer you from dangers and hide you away from the world. No harms will ever befall you, not for as long as I'm still breathing. I won't ever permit you to leave the castle, Ajay. Your whole life will be behind these four - expensive, sturdy - walls. I will make sure of it." His tone dripped with excessive protectiveness and possessiveness. "You are my son now. Mine. I won't lose you to anything or anyone, regardless of what." He refused to deal with another loss just as much as he refused to allow the world to snatch away the only one thing that mattered now.

The child just played with Pagan's dark hair, twisting the strands in his fingers with a tired smile on his lips. Oblivious to the declaration that had been made upon him.

"Ajay," Pagan chuckled. "You are to call me papa, okay?"

"Uhm, but how about-"

"No. I'm your papa now."

"Owh, okay..."

From her seat, Yuma made an irritated noise. She knew Pagan well enough that he'd hold his words like a religious prayer. The boy would never see the outside world from now on, sealed behind these closed walls just because Pagan was being a paranoid parent.

She grinned as she continued to clean her nails. "Baby Rapunzel, huh?"


End file.
